C'mere
by Poca Stella
Summary: A desire forms between two old friends, but what if one of the friends is torn between two loves? Things couldn't get worse...or could they? Fred Weasley and a character of my own making. Reviews are nice.
1. It's Way Too Late

I would just like to say that for the most part, characters are from the Harry Potter set, but my main character, Carrie, was someone I made up. She's not the "perfect" character, but I thought I would let people know so they're not all confused.

Also: I do not own the rights of these characters, but I hope to be allowed to use them without hassle from the real owner or J.K. Rowling's people.

**Chapter 1: it's way too late**

Carrie leaned her head against the cool glass of the window as the English countryside sped past her. It was all a blur of green and none of which she had much interest in. Her mind was boggled and her chest felt heavy, along with which her hands felt clammy due to anxiety. She fumbled in her handbag for a cigarette and matches; she only felt the urge to smoke when she felt the anxiety, which nowadays was often. Smoking was the only memory Carrie had of her dearly departed mother…

Her anxiety started due to the looming event of her sixth year at Hogwarts, which was inevitably the first of the two years she would face without Oliver Wood, her boyfriend of three years and best friend since she was three and he was four. "God, why are you spastic, Carrie?" she asked herself out loud.

She stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray on her armrest and pulled her chestnut, long wavy brown hair off her neck. She began to feel really hot and cramped inside the small compartment. Just as she felt she were going to lose it, a muggle train worker walked by and she opened the compartment door.

"Excuse me?" she summoned the worker sweetly. It was always her nature to try her best to charm someone so that they smile sweetly back and feel like they must hang on her every word. Even with her magic ability, she still felt that when she was in the muggle world, the best way to get things done was to smile and bat your eyelashes. It also helped that he possibly couldn't have been more than nineteen years old.

Her green eyes sparkled brilliantly at him. "I was wondering when we would be reaching Ottery St. Catchpole? I have grown awfully bored and I just don't know what I will do." She flashed her most charming smile.

He smiled shyly and ran a hand through his light brown hair.

"Well, uh, we should be there any minute. Ah, yes, I feel the train slowing down quite a bit," he said quite unsure of himself or his hands.

"Alright, then –" she paused and peered at his name tag "-Simon. Thank you so much." She closed compartment door loudly to snap him out of his daze. The dull expression on his face wasn't attractive at all. He shook his head as if to clear it of some fog and walked confusedly away.

The town slowly began to materialize as the train rode beside it. The town wasn't big, but it had the bare necessities such as a food market and clothing store, one hospital with a veterinary clinic attached, and, of course, the train station.

Though she knew better than to hope, she wished that the Weasley Twins would walk all the way from the burrow to pick her up. As the train stopped, she signed and knew she shouldn't even hold her breath. She wished that she hadn't been away in Spain during the World Cup. It would've been great to have seen Oliver and hung out with the twins, but nevertheless, she had to visit her ailing aunt Melina, who wasn't ailing at all, but suffered from hypochondria.

The train whistled and she struggled to pull the trunk from the above storage and managed it with a loud thunk. Having sat for hours on that train in that hot compartment, she felt gritty and gross. She shoved her long hair out of her eyes and shuffled herself and her trunk down the corridor to be let off the train. She could feel the fresh air hitting her face and finally, she hopped off the train and she instantly felt a flush creep up her face and the hairs on her neck stood.

She looked around and saw only one familiar freckled face and that was of Fred. Suddenly, her mouth went cotton dry and words died on her lips. Her stomach did a flip flop and it flitted in her mind, that thought that she had buried back there for the longest. She knew he was the one she wanted there; the way her body reacted proved it, but in her mind, she screamed, "NO!" as a movie-slow grin played across his lips.


	2. Disenchantment

Remember, Carrie is a character I created, placed in the world J.K. Rowling created. All other characters and anything pertaining to the wizarding world of Harry Potter is credited to her.

* * *

Chapter 2: Disenchantment

Carrie tucked her long legs beneath her as she sat in her favorite chair in the Burrow. Lunchtime sounds filled the Burrow as mostly everyone was in the kitchen eating, except for her, of course. She woke up late, again, and felt she should wait until everyone was done eating proper lunch before she went and made eggs, since she missed breakfast. She bit at her thumbnail and pondered to herself.

Why did Fred affect her in his way? His fiery red hair always hung in his eyes like his brother, but she couldn't help but see them shine brilliantly from his freckled face. And what about Oliver? How was it that whenever she saw Fred, Oliver was far from her mind? She doubted that Fred would feel the same way. It would almost be kind of disrespectful if he made a move on his former Quidditch captain's girlfriend. Oh, what a mess this was.

"Hey, has anyone see Carrie?" came a voice from the kitchen.

"No. I think she's still sleeping," came distinctively Fred's voice. His voice differed from George's slightly; it was definitely deeper and he had a way of speaking that let you know he was holding back. "I don't understand how. She goes to sleep the same time we do and it's not even that late."

"Clearly, Fred, you have no idea what you're talking about," declared young Ginny Weasley. "I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night to find her cot completely empty. It's almost as if she's vanished for the night. However, when I awake, she's sound asleep as if she'd been there all night."

Carrie felt it best to finally present herself. She didn't want to feel rude; she always loved coming to the Burrow, yet lately she felt like she didn't want to be around them all the time. She pushed open the kitchen door to find them all hunched over their plates, eating sandwiches and chips.

"Hello, all," she declared brightly.

They all glanced up at her nonchalantly, as if they blatantly hadn't been talking about her just seconds before.

"Oh, Carrie, would you like something to eat?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

Carrie just shook her head. "No thanks. I don't really feel like eating right now." It was a lie. Her stomach was growling big time, but she didn't want to say that she didn't feel like sitting down and eating with the whole family. It would seem rude.

"Carrie, where do you go in the middle of the night?" asked George suddenly. "Ouch!" Ginny slyly punched him in the arm.

Carrie tried her best to set her face in a perturbed expression. "What do you mean?"

"He means nothing, dear," said Mrs. Weasley. "What you do is what you do. You know this is your home, too, so if you leave your bed, it doesn't mean you're doing anything bad."

Carrie just shrugged. She knew exactly what George was talking about, but she didn't want to admit to it. Lately, she'd been feeling so guilty about how she felt around Fred that she'd arranged to meet with Oliver half a mile away from the Burrow so they could sit, talk, etc. She just didn't want to admit to it in front of the whole family.

"I think I'll go and put a few things away so I don't have to pack later on for when we return to school," she said, backing towards the door and making a clean get away.

She sprinted up the haphazard stairs and ended up in the room she shared with Ginny and Hermione. In all the times she'd been to the Burrow, Carrie never had that urge to bond with either of them. _I suppose it's because I've known Fred and George longer_, she thought to herself. Instead of packing, she lie down on her cot and stared at the ceiling, wondering if she could bring Oliver back to Burrow tonight without anyone noticing. As she pondered her thoughts, she distinctly heard a sniffle outside the door and sat upright abruptly.

"Sorry, I hope I'm not bothering." Fred poked his head in the door.

"No, actually, you're not," she replied, suddenly aware of her hands. What to do with them? They just sat lamely in her lap.

"Well, I'm actually curious," he said, closing the door and sitting next to her on the cot. She was aware how his closeness made her feel warm and she could smell, faintly, a hint of cologne.

"Oh? As to what?" she replied.

"Ahem. Where you really go at night? Mum thinks you just wander downstairs, but I get the distinct impression that you actually leave," he said, as he kept his head down so his red locks fell into his eyes.

Carrie brushed the lock out of his eye, and suddenly drew back as if electrocuted. "Honestly?"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly want you to lie to me, now, would I?" he inquired facetiously.

"I've been meeting with Oliver a bit away from here," she replied, putting her head down as though guilty of something horrible. "It's just it'll be a sudden change in no longer being able to see him everyday, so, I thought it would be okay…" she trailed off and finally looked up at Fred.

Expressionless, he just stared at her. "Oh. So, how is Oliver," he asked in a flat tone.

"Doing well," she replied. "I reckon he got picked up by Puddlemore. He's really happy about it. Are you all right, though? You look a bit ill."

"Oh, why, thank you," he said sarcastically. "I think I'll go round everyone up for a game of Quidditch. I don't suppose you'd want to invite Oliver over for that, would you?"

"Er… no? Fred, are you sure-?" she couldn't complete her sentence because it seemed as though Fred we off-put by the fact she'd been meeting Oliver late at night. "Never mind. I suppose I should really pack now since you're going off and maybe –"

It only lasted an instant, it being Fred brushing his lip gently on hers. He stood quickly, his face flushed brightly red and in silence, he strode out the door. She sat, stunned and puzzled by what had just happened as her heart pounded against her rib cage furiously.


	3. Bitter Discontentment

I apologize, but the last bit of this is kind of fluff. It's not my best, but I wanted to get this third chapter posted so I could post the fourth. Or start it, at least.

Disclaimer: the only character I own is Carrie. Everyone else is of J.K Rowling's doing.

Chapter 3:

The sun went down hours ago and only a few faint snores could be heard throughout the Burrow. Carrie lay in her cot, staring at the ceiling as she touched her lips as the thought of the brief moment she shared with Fred earlier that day flitted across her mind. Her heart felt heavy in her chest and it seemed like it was going to take ages for everyone to sleep in the Burrow tonight. It was almost as if they all wanted to catch her sneaking out.

She could hear Hermione and Ginny whispering in the bed Ginny shared with Hermione. A few nights ago, she could've sworn she heard kissing coming from underneath the thin blankets.

_Will they ever shut the fuck up?_ She thought to herself. Or so she thought.

"What?" called Ginny quietly to her.

Carrie sat up in her bed. "I'm sorry. I didn't think I said that out loud. I can't take it anymore. I'm not going to wait until you guys go to sleep."

Hermione's tousled head sprang from underneath the blankets. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Ginny was right. I do leave in the middle of the night and I meet Oliver," she replied as she pulled on her jean shorts and black camisole. "Yes, Oliver Wood. I don't care anymore."

In the moonlight, the girls shared a look of puzzlement on their faces, but Carrie could care less. She had to see Oliver before she went out of her mind and did something completely off-hand and stupid.

She quietly opened the door and crept down the very loud and crooked stairs. Every other step, she stood still against the wall, waiting for someone to ask her what she was doing or where she was going, but the inquisition never came.

Finally, she reached the bottom of the stairs and before she reached the door, candlelight flickered in the corner.

"Just where do you think you're going?" asked Fred.

"You know where I am going and I don't think you can stop me," she replied, pulling on her trainers. She straightened up and brushed her long dark hair from her eyes. "I'm also going to bring him back here tonight. I don't think there is much you can do about that, now is there?"

Fred just stared at her in disbelief.

"What?" she asked.

"Aren't you going to ask?"

"What is there to ask about?" she replied.

"Earlier…" he said, trailing off. "Never mind. Go and continue on with your _boyfriend_, Oliver."

He snuffed out the candle between his thumb and forefinger and with less enthusiasm than normal, shuffled up the stairs.

Carrie shook her head and finally made her way out the front door. Once out, the cool, summer air hit her face and she could feel the air crackling with energy. Walking in the dark was natural to her now. The moon shone down on her and she followed the road half a mile west until she came to the marker, letting visitors know that Ottery St. Catchpole was such-and-such miles away.

After standing for a few minutes, Carrie finally heard a resounding POP! – which indicated Oliver had arrived. She fell against his warm embrace and never wanted to let him go.

"Hey, what's wrong?" asked Oliver, stroking her hair gently, just as he knew to do. He could sense the anxiousness in her hug and how she clung to him for dear life.

Without words, she passionately kissed him and everything rushed back to her- how she loved him for so long and how she knew she was going to miss late night common room meetings, squashed together in an armchair with arms flailing and her hair wild and tousled.

She felt his hands drift from her hair to her hips, where they rested comfortably. His kiss generated warmth that spread right down to her toes and to the tips of her hair.

Suddenly, Oliver pulled away. "Well, that was some welcome for someone who only saw me twenty-four hours ago."

Carrie bit her bottom lip coyly and knew exactly why she pushed herself so fiercely on him. However, she wasn't about to tell him that. Instead, she grabbed his hand and led him in the direction of the Burrow.

"Just exactly where are you taking me?" asked Oliver.

She only gave him a sly side-glance. She couldn't wait to lie next to him, to feel such emotion crackle between them. Tonight, just being next to him would be enough for her. Making love wasn't even in her mind; she just needed to be held so that their feelings could emanate throughout the house.

When they entered the house, it was dead silent. Nothing could be heard, not even a tick of a clock, which the Weasley house lacked, except for the one in which each Weasley name was inscribed and said where they were. Of course, it never ticked. Still holding hands, they made their way up the stairs and into the room she shared with Ginny and Hermione.

Once through the doorway, she felt her lung tighten with anxiety. Her mind suddenly was racing and her skin felt on fire with desire and passion. _This is neither the time nor the place_, she thought viciously. They fell back onto her cot, their hands grappling with the inhibition of their clothes while they kept their mouths occupied.

It struck her. We can't do this, she thought.

"What?" he asked, pulling his face away from hers.

"Oh…I didn't think I had said that aloud." Such was her excuse nowadays.

"You're right, though," he replied, as her slid off of her and lay next to her.

"I'm glad you see I'm right. I just don't want to disrespect Mrs. Weasley, you know? I mean, she feeds me and lets me stay here with her children and I couldn't do that."

"It's okay. I understand." He gazed into her face, shyly and adoringly.

Carrie wasn't voicing what she thought exactly, though. She didn't want to parade their love making in the Weasley house because it was where Fred resided and it would be a big laugh in his face if they went through with it. Carrie lost herself in thought and soon, sleepiness came through her and she felt herself drifting off to sleep…

Sunlight filtered in through the window under which Carrie's cot was placed. She felt warmth from the body next to her and realized why she had awoken in the first place.

"Oh, shit." Came a vaguely familiar voice. "Should we wake them or just shut the door so mum won't see?"

"Fuck it," came Fred's voice bitterly. "Let mum see. See what she does."

Heavy footsteps lumbered past the door and Carrie shot upright. She began to rouse Oliver almost violently. "Oliver! Oliver!" she cried in a hushed whisper.

"Mmm? Whasamatter?" he slurred his words together.

"You have to apparate home now!"

Suddenly, alert, Oliver looked nervously about the room. "NOW!"

With a faint POP! Oliver was gone from her bedside. Carrie sighed and pulled on her black hoodie. She shuffled down the stairs and caught sight of Fred on a stuffed arm chair.

"Sleep well?" he inquired maliciously.

"Shut the fuck up," she replied. His eyes widened, suddenly taken aback.

"Well, are all your things ready, children?" asked Mrs. Weasley as she came from the kitchen.

A resounding yes floated around the room. "Alright, well, we'll just be walking to the village and taking cabs to London."

As Mrs. Weasley spoke, it was as though her words bounced right off of Carrie. All she could focus on was Fred, who wanted her to get caught and get in trouble. _Oh, this is going to be an eventful year_, she thought.


	4. Locked Compartment

The only character that belongs to me is Carrie. Everything else is of the imagination of J.K. Rowling. Please review (this is the only time I've asked..) I really like this chapter and I would like anyone to review it. Hate it? Love it? Suggestions? Doesn't matter. Call me stupid or anything. Just review it. Thank you.

**_Chapter 4: Locked Compartment_**

Chatter filled the train compartment as exasperated sixth year Gryffindors were anxious for their last two years at Hogwarts before their departure into the world of over-age wizardry in which they could use their powers at will without penalty. Yes, it was a fine time to be sitting in the compartment with the windows thrown open as cigarette smoke wafted out. Carrie wasn't the only one smoking this time, however. Her only girl friends, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, and Angelina Johnson were passing a cigarette between them.

"So, I hear you almost got caught with Oliver by Mrs. Weasley at the Burrow," Angelina stated as she took in a drag before passing it to Katie.

Carrie smiled half-heartedly. "Um, yeah, almost." Fred, being in the same compartment, paused at their words in his game of Exploding Snap to look at her.

"Well, why was he there?" asked Alicia.

"Oh, well, I figured I could see him with the remaining holiday and at first, we would wander around the village, talking and holding hands, but I wanted to cuddle with him and feel safe in his arms. I opted to bring him back to the Burrow," she explained.

"You are so lucky, Carrie," said Katie with a sigh. "I always thought Oliver was so handsome, all those years I played Quidditch with him…I am so jealous of you!"

Carrie smiled and shrugged it off. Almost on a regular basis, upper class girls told Carrie how she found a good one. Well, at least the ones with sense. Most other girls fawned and bat their eyelashes at Cedric Diggory and most of their attention shifted to him once she and Oliver began to date her third year.

Suddenly, Fred, having exploded his house before construction was done, stood up. "I'm going to see what everyone else is up to." As he made his way to the door, he caught Carrie's eye and motioned her to join him.

Carrie gave Fred a three-minute head start before she stood up, plainly and unconvincingly stated that she was going to get more sweets from the witch and her pushcart.

As soon as the door shut with a resounding click, a hand seized her around the wrist and pulled her towards the back of the train. Loud noises of reuniting friends and excited voices droning as one faded the further back they got. Finally, they reached the very end to a deserted compartment and Fred pulled them in and locked the door.

"What do you want?" she asked innocently, taking a seat with bated breath.

"I want to talk about what happened…with everything," he replied, taking up what little room there was left to pace. A long pause followed these words. Carrie knew it was going to happen sooner or later and she would rather it be never.

"So, we're not going to talk about what happened? Or why you suddenly can't look me in the eye," he asked. "Look at me!"

His plea caused her to jump. "Well, what do you want me to say," she replied, jumping up from the seat she'd taken to look him squarely in the eye. "Do you want me to say that I had to keep seeing Oliver to nullify the feeling you give me when our eyes meet? Do you want me to tell you that being so close to you RIGHT NOW is taking every fiber of my being not to kiss you? Because it is!"

Fred stared at her, dumbstruck. She suddenly realized what words had just flown from her mouth. The weight of it finally lifted off her shoulders and her heart.

"You…what?" he was at a loss for words.

"Oh, fuck it. It's the truth," she said as she sat back in the seat. "I mean, you feel the same way…don't you?"

An awkward silence filled the compartment. A hard lump settled in Carrie's throat, constricting her breathing.

"Never mind," she said hurriedly before tears could splash down her smooth cheek. She made a rush for the door, just to escape such humility.

"No, wait," he finally spoke, resting his calloused hand on her hipbone. Such a simple touch made her want to melt into him. "I need to digest this. For so long, I have pushed these feelings aside because I felt you were out of my league. Your mind is so brilliant and cunning. You have quick wit and are the only person outside of Slytherin who would dare smart back to Snape and win. Your looks…GOODNESS! You're too exotic for drab and dreary England. But Oliver got to you first. I forced myself to get over you and I never succeeded. With every joke I told in your presence, you would laugh with such delight and touch my arm gently…it gave me some hope. And now you feel the same way?"

It was Carrie's turn to be dumbstruck and the only movement she could make was to nod her head. His hand still rested on her hip. Their words seemed to have hung in the air without being registered. Her brain was too befuddled with the electric currents passing from their skin on skin.

"So, you really have felt this way for so long?" she inquired quietly, bringing her hips as close as possible to touching his.

"Yes," he declared almost lamely, now so close that she smelled pumpkin juice on his breath and it stirred a few wispy strands of hair around her face.

They were so close that their noses were touching…

His lips were as soft as she remembered them from their "accidental" kiss. She wondered how many other girls he had kissed to make her go so weak in the knees, to know to hold the small of her back to guide her onto the cushioned bench seats of the compartment. Then that thought morphed. How many girls could Fred have kissed? He wasn't a troll. Actually, he was down right adorable. Suddenly, she pulled away, realizing they were still on the train.

"Do you think we should be doing this now?" she asked. With her thoughts of Fred's experience, it dawned on her she had no business to be so paranoid about it.

"What are we doing anyway?" he replied sliding off of her and smoothing down his fiery red locks.

"I honestly don't know." It was the complete truth. Such convenience rested with Fred, but also a sense of normalcy because she'd always been able to be herself and not worry about impressing him. With Oliver it was different. In the back of her head, she would like to believe that she charmed him by being herself when in reality, she used her natural feminine wiles on purpose.

Fred frowned slightly. "I don't want to break you guys up, but-" he drew his face closer to hers again – "I just can't help but want to kiss you again."

It was a quick kiss before she ducked out from him. "I think we should try to act normal. I don't know what else to say. We should head back anyhow."

The look on his face indicated he was crestfallen, but he obliged. They finally came to their compartment and Fred went in first. Carrie stared at her watch for several minutes until she felt it was enough to not arouse suspicion.

Carrie sat in her corner, smoking and talking with her girl friends. While she tried to ignore it, she couldn't help but notice Fred staring at her for the whole train ride.

"Carrie, why were you guys gone so long?" Angelina asked.

"What?" she replied, trying not to look guilty.

"I'm just kidding!" Angelina replied.

Carrie chuckled weakly as she stared out the window and tried to avoid any of their gazes. Angelina didn't know how close she was, even though it was just a simple question. It was as though she were accusing her of exactly what she was doing and that was falling in love with two people at the same time.

What a bumpy year it was going to be.


	5. Locked Inside

I do not own HP and gang. I do, however, own the character, Carrie, the conflicted little vixen who narrates this story, basically. I would like this to be read and reviewed so don't be shy to say it sucked or it was great. I'll like you just for reviewing. THANK YOU.

**Chapter 5: locked inside**

_It's way too late  
__To be this locked inside ourselves.  
__The trouble is that  
__you're in love with someone else.  
__It should be me.  
__It should be me.  
_(**Interpol – C'mere**)

The first few weeks passed by without much incident, but it quickly became evident how much Carrie and Fred wanted each other. There were countless times Carrie found herself so restless and unable to sleep that she had to creep out into the boys' dormitory to rouse Fred in the middle of the night for comfort.

Constantly, it nagged at the back of her head; "What about Oliver?" Carrie's only contact with Oliver had been a letter sent using a school owl, claiming she missed him, but upon thinking, did she really?

Carrie loved the attention Fred gave her. She was hooked on the way he ran his fingers softly through her chestnut waves and she loved the way he teased her desire for him by kissing her lips slowly before finally giving her the fully on passion she craved.

Several times, she had to duck under his blankets, waiting with bated breath as George awoke and interrogated Fred.

"Who were you whispering to?" he would ask.

"No one, George. Go back to sleep," he would reply. A couple minutes later George could be heard snoring softly. It was only then that they could resume their tongue tango.

In the middle of October, merely weeks before Oliver would be returning to the castle, Carrie found herself, one late Saturday night, entangled with Fred on an old, squashy lounge chair in front of the fire.

His hands traced the skin beneath her nightshirt, touching her hipbones while her hands twirled the hairs at the nape of his neck. Deeply entranced by the electricity and warmth his kisses generated, their surroundings quickly became nothing as his lips met hers and their hands touched skin under their nightclothes. While everything from the outside disappeared for what seemed like forever, it was a creak on the stair that caused Carrie to pull back as her heart beat furiously against her chest.

"What?" Fred asked anxiously, his brown eyes searching her sapphire eyes for some hint as to what he had done wrong.

"Didn't you hear that?" she replied, panic ever-so present in her voice as she gazed wide-eyed and imploringly at Fred.

"No," he said honestly. "I didn't hear anything."

Carrie slid out from beneath him, landing lamely on the carpeted floor of the Gryffindor common room. "I think we should call it a night, Fred. I don't exactly intend to be caught before I've thought everything through." She paused. "I mean, you can't honestly think I've settled all this, do you?"

Fred lowered himself on the floor next to her. "Actually, I'd thought with all this snogging we'd been doing, you'd decided on me."

"Excuse me?" Carrie stared at the freckle-faced redhead beside her, whose face looked crestfallen. "How could you think such a thing could be easy for me? It isn't easy at all! My heart and head have been battling since that one kiss we shared in your sister's room and then again on the train. I am restless and tormented by the fact that no matter who I choose, I'm hurting someone I love if I don't choose them. It's an inner turmoil you would understand."

Fred stared at her for a moment in disbelief before he stood and disappeared up the staircase to the boys' dormitories.

"Fuck," she whispered as she realized she pissed of the one person she could talk to and feel comforted by. She herself began to walk up the girls' staircase when she saw, peeking from behind the corner was a head of busy brown curls.

"Oh, fuck me," she stated simply as she came upon Hermione Granger, who's face was covered in guilt.

"I'm so sorry!" Hermione cried in a whisper. "I had no idea anyone else would be up. I just wanted to review my History of Magic essay – you see, I felt I did sub par on it and I needed to fix it or else I wouldn't sleep – then I started to walk into the common room and I saw…well, I saw you and Fred and – I'm so sorry!" She melodramatically put her face into her hands.

The utter terror that shook the girl up made Carrie smile in spite of herself. Her hair may have been tied back, but it didn't stop a few strands from shaking with her body. Her tone cracked and her eyes were wide with mortification. She couldn't yell at her at all.

"I'm not mad at you, Hermione," Carrie said softly, patting the top of the fourth year's head. Hermione peered at Carrie through her thin, ink-stained fingers. "I mean, I knew someday, we would get caught, but I didn't think it would be so soon." Carrie plopped on the stairs next to Hermione, who finally took her hands away from her face.

"What do you mean?" she asked earnestly.

Carrie chuckled. "I can't believe I'm about to tell you this. I haven't even talked about this with my closest friends, but I guess this is only because I'm forced to, right?" She ran her fingers nervously through her tousled locks. "I'm in a mess, 'Mione. When I first came off the train, the first person I saw was Fred. The sight of him caused my heart to speed up but-" she sighed, "- I didn't want to listen to what my heart was saying. So, instead, I forced myself upon Oliver. Actually, I made myself face Oliver to push any thoughts of Fred out of my head. Well, it worked, up until Ginny pointed out that some nights, I wasn't there. I would disappear. And I would see Oliver, then. Fred asked me about it that same day. I couldn't hide it from him. He kissed me lightly. From then on, we couldn't look each other in the face.

"Finally, it was on the train ride he felt we needed to have it out, whether it be a row or just say what was on our minds. Well, we ended up confessing that we both felt something for each other. Since the train ride, we've been snogging in deserted classrooms and the common room late at night. We've even gone so far as in his dormitory with George and Lee sleeping so close by. I can't help it, but I have no idea what I should do," she confessed.

"Do you have a preference?" Hermione asked naively.

Carrie laughed bitterly. "Don't you think that if I did, I would've done something by now? Oliver comes in a week and I think I should break this cycle. I just need one thing from you, Hermione."

Hermione gazed curiously at Carrie, directly in the eyes.

"I need you to swear to me that you won't breathe a word of this to anyone. Not even Ginny and especially not Harry or Ron. It would be better to figure this out on my own without everyone knowing and wondering who the hell I'm going to be with because honestly, I haven't the fainted clue," she said to her.

Hermione nodded so vigorously that her hair came out of its tie. "Can I go revise my essay now?"

Carrie gave her a nod and with that, Hermione stood and walked the few steps to the common room. With some weight lifted off of her shoulders, Carrie stood and crept silently into her dormitory, aware of the steady breathing of her roommates.

_Oh, great, one more person who knows the truth_, she thought as she climbed into her bed. _And it's someone I don't even know if I can really trust_. She felt sorry for the girls in her dormitory, who were left in the dark as to what was happening. She fitfully turned over and fell asleep, wondering and hoping that Oliver's weekend stay would be pleasant and without incident.


	6. Giving In

Well, I wanted to finish this fanfic by the time school started BUT as it starts tomorrow, it doesn't seem to be happening. Many conflicts need to be resolved, but I am really satisfied with this chapter as something happens between Fred and Carrie, which apparently i handled tastefully and tacfully. Joy. REVIEWS and READING must ensue. PLEASE? I beg for reviews. i'll send you a nickel in the mail. i promise.  
Also, I do not own any of the HP characters, though I wish i did. I do, however, own Carrie, my own little vixen-like creation. Sigh.

**Chapter 6: Giving In**  
_I could feel it go down  
__you left the sweetest taste in my mouth.  
__Silver line in the clouds  
__Oh and I wonder what it's all about.  
_(**Coldplay – The Hardest Part**)

The Friday preceding Oliver's weekend stay dawned bright and oddly warm, despite October. Carrie went to all of her morning classes and found herself staring at Fred in the middle of important lectures and instructions, but she couldn't help it. True to her silent vow, Carrie stopped seeing Fred in private, but frequently, she daydreamed about his lips on hers and his hands running delicately over her body.

Distantly, the bell rung to signal the end of Potions (and the end of her fantasy). Carrie had been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't realize how hungry she was. Before she left the dungeon, where pungent smells punctuated the air, she slung her robes over her bag, suddenly aware of how hot she felt.

As she rose from the depths of the dungeons, the comforting noise of chattering students filled the hallway, into the entrance hall, where stragglers milled around as though they weren't sure if they should go to lunch. She continued on to the Great Hall, saying hi to familiar faces until she was seized and pulled into a broom closet just off the marble staircase.

"Lumos!" The wand light illuminated Fred's thin face. It registered in Carrie's brain that a coy grin curved his soft lips.

"Holy shit! I thought I was being kidnapped," Carrie laughed stupidly, setting her bag down and leaning against the wall opposite the door.

"Well, you weren't, now, were you?" he replied distractedly, tapping the doorknob with his wand. "I had to talk to you before Oliver came."

"I don't see what was so important that you felt the need to grab me like that," she said, unable to hide the annoyance in her voice.

"Carrie, tell me what the fuck I'm supposed to do this weekend," he stated bluntly, closing the gap between them. "I don't think I'll be able to talk to you at all. It'd be so awkward and forced...I just can't do that. And Oliver would know something was weird. You haven't even let us be alone this week. Why can't you just choose?"

"You're not making this fair, Fred," she said carefully, well aware of how his eyes kept darting to her lips and the distance between them was so little that the fibers of his trousers tickled her bare legs. "I'm dating Oliver, not you. Or did you forget that?"

"No, I haven't forgotten that, but I think you did," he said scathingly. Carrie glared at him, but his smoldering eyes melted her anger. She felt as though she were denying not only Fred of something wonderful, but herself as well, something she desired more than anything.

"I can see it," he said suddenly, startling her.

"See what?"

"You want this, I know you do," he said desperately. "Why are you doing this?"

The pleading in his voice and the sadness in his eyes tugged at Carries heartstrings. Before she fully formulated any thought in her head, she placed her hands on the back of his neck and kissed him softly. He kissed her lips and her eyelids, and placed a whisper of a kiss on her collarbone before turning his attention back to her lips. Full-fledged passion caused warmth to travel through her body, from her toes to the tips of each strand of hair. Fleetingly, she was aware of his strong hand traveling up her thigh, but didn't even want to swat it away.

She welcomed the sensation his touch brought her; she felt that if in this moment, someone asked her name, she wouldn't be able to divulge it as she already forgot it. Both of his hands were working under her skirt and she never felt such a physical connection with Oliver. She always had to tell him what to do, but it felt so right with Fred. Her hands roved over his waistband until she finally unbuckled his belt. In such lust and passion, they didn't even realize where they were anymore, until the bell sounded to signal the end of lunch.

"Fuck," she groaned into the crook of his neck.

He laughed into her hair. "I have a free period."

"And I don't," she replied, moving his hands from under her skirt and smoothing out her uniform. "But meet me at eight in the Room of Requirement," she whispered hotly into his ear before grabbing her bag and dashing out of the broom closet.

At eight o'clock sharp, Carrie and Fred met outside the Room of Requirement. Before Fred arrived, Carrie paced in front of the wall, but it remained unmarred by a door. Her mind was just as the blank wall, taunting her that she couldn't get any thought into her head, much less a door into the wall. She was ready to kick the solid wall when Fred shuffled into the corridor.

Concentrating hard, he paced up and down the corridor. Upon his fourth try, an oaken door appeared in the stony wall.

"Brilliant," Carrie murmured, entering the room. Fred came up behind her and locked the door.

The room looked familiar to Carrie, from the queen-sized bed with turquoise sheets, to the lounge chair placed awkwardly in the opposing corner. Even the bookshelves, slightly askew with books missing or lain haphazardly to the side were familiar. It was-

"My room," Carrie said in amazement, throwing herself on top of the neatly made bed. "I couldn't have picked a better place!" she squealed to Fred as he sat cautiously on her bed.

"I wanted to make you comfortable for what I'm about to say." He delicately tilted her face towards his; she noted how his lean frame trembled as he lay next to her. "I don't think I can't not tell you this. I don't want to seem like an idiot and I'm putting myself out there by saying this." He glanced at his hands. "I love you."

For a second, Carrie's heart faltered and responded by pulling him on top of her. Her mind and tongue felt heavy with a number of things she could say from the incredibly hurtful to the incredibly gratifying. "I love you, too."

Though she expressed her words awkwardly, she felt definite and final. It was as though they were kissing for the first time; he placed his lips on hers, softly, as though questioning where he could go with this, but one look in her eyes told him that she wanted this more than anything. Their mouths opened, deepening their kiss and the passion that tussled between them caused a groan to escape her lips.

His lips left hers, trailing her torso to her bellybutton and back up again, where he lay expectant kisses on her collarbone. A shiver shook her spine and for a moment, her breath caught in her lungs. They unbuttoned their uniforms and for a moment, took in each other's nearly naked forms. Carrie's skirt and Fred's trousers were in a heap on the floor, along with his shirt. Her blouse was a clump under her as they rolled around on her bed.

Fred's mind was blown. Her body seemed to quake with every touch he placed on her soft, tan skin. Her body had no flaws, and whatever scar he came across, he regarded as something that made her even more perfect. He didn't want to mess it up, he didn't want her to say, "No," but if she did, he knew he would have to breathe in deeply and reply, "Okay," while he tried to keep his heart in his chest.

So many nights in his shared bedroom, he dreamt of this moment when their bodies conformed to fit each other's, but he never knew that it would ever become a reality. He loved her hands running through his hair and the way her hips lifted from the mattress to feel his skin on hers.

"Carrie," he whispered softly. "Do you want this?"

For a moment, she thought she had been brought out from being confunded, but she realized it was the effect Fred had on her. But he'd called her name and she heard it carried on a light and sweet breath. "Mmm?"

"Do you want to do this?" he asked, looking her in the eye. She nodded her head. His eyes smiled, but it didn't show on his lips. Within seconds, they were both naked; Carrie felt there was no going back, not that she wanted to in the first place. Never before had she felt so vulnerable, as naked as she was with every scar and freckle on display to this boy she had known since she was in diapers.

Under the blankets, Carrie felt calm come over her. His skin was smooth and his body gave off heat while tremors coursed through him. Carrie inhaled sharply as their bare hipbones touched and her body was filled with a pleasurable tingle. Her mind and heart felt as though they exploded into indistinguishable blobs in which she couldn't formulate any thought and the only thing she could feel was elation. Her heart was pounding so loud that she could swear Fred heard it, too, though he didn't show it. Her breath caught in her throat and for a moment, she felt as though she would have to force herself to breathe. It as though her lungs were failing her, but instead, in the pit of her stomach, she felt something electric that caused every inch of her to go numb, but it was a good sensation. After a moment it passed and Fred kissed her collarbone so sweetly that the hairs on the back of her neck stood.

While he laced his fingers in hers, her mind began to race with every question she had quelled until the moment was right, but this seemed like the exact wrong moment. When this tryst started, she swore she wouldn't have sex with Fred until she broke up with Oliver, if that's what she wanted, but there they were, their bodies laced in sweat, naked and speechless. Fred's slack hand and even breathing indicated he had fallen asleep_. How can he sleep when there are all these questions to be answered?_ she thought angrily, but she couldn't be mad. She had a shrewd idea who she should pick. She never felt such loving emotion emanate from one person for her as they had while they gave in to their passion.

She felt it futile to even try to formulate logical answers at this point and time. She lay her head on his smooth chest as it rose and fell beneath her. For what had to have been hours, she stared at the numbers on her clock changing later and later as her eyes drooped more and more. But they couldn't fall asleep. They had to get back to their rooms before anyone noticed they were gone, but her limbs felt weak and so relaxed that it wouldn't hurt to take a cat nap just for a little while...


	7. The Morning After

This is just a very short introduction back into what is going on. I know I have not written in ages so this is just me, warming up to my story once more. I am very excited to finally have the time again to write and I can hopefully finish this damn thing that has been festering here for ... three years almost? Just a disclaimer: I do not claim to own the writes of any of JK Rowling's characters, however, Carrie is of my own creation. Please review. Be kind. Thank you.

**Chapter 7** Morning After  
_Once I wanted to be the greatest  
no wind or waterfall could stall me  
and then came the rush of the flood  
the stars at night turn deep to dust  
**Cat Power - "The Greatest"**_

The sun streamed in through the singular window in the Room of Requirement. Carrie kept her eyes closed and basked in the warmth of the morning light and the body that lie next to her. She turned over and felt the cool sheets under her naked body...wait. Naked? Her eyes flew open and she glanced to her left to the sleeping body next to her. She immediately jumped out of the bed. She gathered her clothes in a hurry and pulled them on her in an instant. The noise of Carrie muttering to herself and the movement of her body from the bed roused Fred from his sleep.

"What's going on?" his voice rough with sleep, his eyes barely open.

"We have to wake up! It's the day of the feast and the day Oliver arrives!" she practically screamed at him, throwing his clothes at him. He lay his head back on the pillow. He then reached his arm across the bed and pulled her back into him.

"You need to calm down and take a deep breath," he said, sleepily still.

"I can't, Fred. I don't even know what time it is and I am freaking out!" she groaned.

He glanced at his wristwatch. "It's only eight o'clock. On a Saturday. That means that we are the only ones up right now."

She sighed. "I guess you're right." she crawled back into bed and lay next to him.

"Are you ready to face the day?" she asked her quietly, not quite meeting her gaze as his eyes were still closed. She sat there and gathered her thoughts for a moment. Last night, everything seemed so clear cut. It was Fred who she would choose, right? But the morning light shed harsh reality on the situation and it turned her stomach.

"I...don't know anything anymore," she admitted, sighing deeply.

A heavy silence followed this statement. She glanced at Fred and saw his face looking at her in disbelief. Clearly, he also thought she resolved the issue between her head and heart but it wasn't so easy for her. As she stared at his crestfallen face, she hoped it wouldn't turn into anger.

"Say something, please?" she begged quietly, bringing herself closer to him and burrowing her face in his chest.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked quietly and without any hint of anger in his voice. All she heard was deep hurt and his words dug deeper than if they were those of anger.

"Anything."

"I never thought this would happen, first of all. Ever. I never planned it. Dreamt it more often than not. Um... What else? I never wanted to put you in this situation and if I did anything at all to trigger this...I'd take it back if it meant making things easier for you," he stated monotonously.

She digested his words. "You'd take back ever being born?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said you'd take back the catalyst that set this whole debacle in motion. Essentially, your existence. This whole thing is not tied to one thing you did. This all happened simply because you have always had this way about you I have always been attracted to, but I held back. When you didn't hold back anymore on the train, I felt the dam within me break and I could no longer deny what I have felt for you for ages."

The conversation was making everything worse. If she denied Fred in the end, it would seem as though it were all a lie. The silence was unbearable. Fred finally sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

"I think I'm going to go back to the dormitory," he said, pulling on the clothes she had previously thrown at him.

"Okay," she said quietly. As she watched his figure retreat towards the door, she felt her heart swell and tears fill her eyes. When he almost reached the door, he turned back to her and kissed her forehead.

"Take your time," he whispered. "No matter what happens, I'll be here, still loving you."

When the door closed with a quiet click, her heart exploded in her chest and loud sobs escaped her lips as she threw herself face down into the bed they slept in together as she had to decide what she were to do and if she could live with herself were she to go through with her plans.


End file.
